


Cardiac Arrest

by lunalius



Series: We Hate Working In Hospitality [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Doyu only referenced tbh, M/M, Postgrad students Johnny and Kun, references to blowjobs but no actual blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 13:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16198073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunalius/pseuds/lunalius
Summary: Kun is concerned about the regular that shows up at least five times a day to order a double strength large long black. Or he's attracted to him. Or both.





	Cardiac Arrest

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this tweet](https://twitter.com/singledadjohnny/status/1031694692281274369).
> 
> If you're dieting from caffeine or have recently cut the amount of coffee you drink because of anxiety, tread carefully because writing this fic was making me anxious so bad.

Working in a café is a blur and considering he worked casual hours, it was hard for Kun to keep track of all the regulars that came in and what their orders were. But it was difficult to forget Johnny – especially when he was in several times a day and his order was always a strong large long black, regardless what time it was.

To say Kun was concerned was an understatement. He once tried to argue a case to cut this guy off at coffee #3, but his sleazy manager, Heechul, claimed Johnny was ‘the model customer’.

“By evening,” he’d said, “You could feed that guy swill and he wouldn’t give a shit.”

From then on, Kun made sure he was the only one making Johnny’s order whenever he was working evenings, and he made sure never to make swill. But he also didn’t fuss over forgetting to put that extra shot in.

Johnny had apparently started coming in long before Kun started working there, and he was told he was only around during the semester, so Kun supposed Johnny was a student at the university just like he was. He’d noticed a few things outside of his coffee habits over the eight months he’d gotten to know Johnny – his baseball caps in many different colours, the t-shirts featuring references to X-Files, a copy of some Dickens novel, and the length he liked to keep his hair. (The last one was, of course, a casual observation. 

Sometimes, Johnny liked to change things up. Just then, Johnny walked in in a blazer and tie, very different to his usual college attire, right in the middle of the morning rush (also abnormal). Kun had no time to focus on Ten and Johnny chatting it up at the register with all the orders on his screen flashing red and waiting over five minutes, but he had an ear trained towards them anyway. Not that he could hear anything.

“Will you concentrate on the drinks?” Doyoung hissed by his head, tapping his shoulder so he could get the jug away from the milk steamer, “He’ll be back in like an hour.”

“I’m concentrating,” Kun mumbled, “I also don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t. Can you see the other big jug? The giant one? I swear we had two.”

“The paint started chipping on one of them so I had Heechul throw it away.”

“What the fuck? How are we supposed to survive rush hour with the one jug?”

“We dealt with it yesterday, we can deal with it today too. Heechul’s already ordered another one but we have to wait ages for delivery.”

“Ugh.”

The screen beeped and although it was already too full for Kun to be able to see any of the latest orders, he knew what it was. He set up for a cup to be filled to almost the top with hot water. He noted Johnny appearing in his peripheral, looking a lot more frazzled than usual. Not through his appearance – his hair was neatly styled, his shirt well ironed and his shoes weren’t actually falling apart – but just the bags under his eyes, the clenched jaw, his shaking fingers.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Ten hissed in his ear, nearly making Kun jump and spill his coffee grounds all over the floor.

“Ten!” Kun gasped. 

“Ah, whatever, you can take a picture when he comes back in about an hour. Or two. He has to present a research proposal today, apparently. Also,” Ten snapped his fingers, “I came over to tell you he wants an extra shot in his coffee today.”

Kun paused in the middle of tamping the coffee and turned around to stare at Ten like he’d grown a second head. “You mean, on top of extra shot he already has?”

“Yep.”

“Ten, did you tell him he’s going to die?”

“Aw, it’s so cute how concerned you are.”

Kun flushed. “Shut up.”

“You’re free to give him his coffee early. I think he’s in a hurry. But you could totally wait for his turn and let him hang around the counter longer for your viewing pleasure.”

“Shut _up_.”

“Yeah, Ten, shut up,” Doyoung barked, “You can tease Kun when we don’t have a million orders waiting overtime and you don’t have a queue of customers to serve.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Five shots of espresso,” Doyoung grumbled, “Why can’t he just take six? All the orders are for a medium or eat-in, they’re _all_ double shots, and I fucking hate it when there are shots left over like that –”

“Put it in my coffee,” Kun said.

He couldn’t see Doyoung raise an eyebrow at him but he could feel it anyway. “And you’re worried about Johnny’s health. Order for Sunny?” he called out, placing a large drink on the bar counter.

“I hate wasting as much as you do. No one’s going to order an iced coffee this early in the morning, probably. 

“Don’t jinx it. Please.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Kun and Doyoung peeked around the coffee machine to see a girl looking over the top. “Sorry if this is too much trouble, but could I get a bit more froth in mine? It tastes more like a flat white.”

Kun could see Doyoung’s fist clench around his jug so he swooped in quickly. “Of course,” he beamed, “But we would have to make it again, so it could take a few more minutes. Is that alright?”

“Oh sure, I’m in no hurry. I understand it’s busy. Thank you!”

“If you wanted more froth, you should’ve ordered a fucking cappuccino,” Doyoung grumbled once Sunny was far enough away from the counter, “And if you had all the time in the world you could have just ordered in!”

“There are no seats left, I believe.”

“You know what would fix that? If we just culled the human population.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious! And now we have to throw this beautiful hazelnut latte away as well!”

“I’ll drink it.” Kun swiped the cup from Doyoung’s hand, popped the lid off and downed the entire thing in one gulp, all before his co-worker could say anything. He went back to tamping his grounds, ignoring Doyoung’s horrified stare.

“You and Johnny would be perfect for each other,” he whispered.

“Shut up. I’ve never even talked to him.”

“You could. He spends half his life here and so do you."

“I’m fine. I barely have the time to date anyone anyway.”

“I remember when I used to think that way.” 

Three minutes later, Kun finally placed he lid on Johnny’s double strong large long black and slid it over to Doyoung.

“Call it out yourself." 

Kun blinked. “What?”

“I don’t need to pour any milk in it. And this is your chance to finally talk to him.”

“Um,” Kun gulped. “Okay.” He shuffled towards the counter and called loudly, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking, “Johnny?” 

Johnny looked up from his phone, and with a few strides he was over by the counter, flashing Kun the same brilliant smile he always did (the one Kun barely survived every single time). “Thanks.”

Kun wanted to take the opportunity to wish him good luck with his proposal, but was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat and turned to find a familiar face leaning over the counter, not being transparent about inspecting the mess around the bar area: Nightmare Customer Kibum.

“I asked for my macchiato extra hot.”

Kun explained as quickly as he could that a macchiato was just a shot of espresso with some froth on top and that he couldn’t possibly make it any hotter or colder, and Nightmare Customer Kibum bit back that he was under the impression that a macchiato was another kind of latte, and Kun responded that that their café didn’t make those and that they made macchiatos the way they made them in Italy, which was a shot of espresso with some froth on top, and in between all that back and forth, Johnny must have disappeared. Kun finally retreated out of that conversation with a long sigh and special-order macchiato to add to his long list of drinks he had to make. He didn’t even bother acknowledging Ten’s smug grin or Doyoung’s disappointed scowl.

“You blew it,” he said.

Kun sighed again. “I know.”

……………

Johnny was back two hours later, his tie pulled loose, his blazer off and his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. Kun decided that this was much worse than the neater look he had this morning. Ten was on his break and Doyoung was busy with the toaster (despite not actually having anything to toast) so Kun supposed it was his turn to hold the till.

“How’s it going?” Kun asked, with his best customer service smile on.

“It’s going,” Johnny grinned. “How about you?”

“I’m good, thank you. The usual?”

“Uh, yeah, but could I have an extra shot on top of that?”

“Again?” Kun asked, before he could stop himself, and immediately regretted it when Johnny’s smile morphed into a look of embarrassment. “Uh, I mean… it’s just, that’s a lot of coffee.” Kun winced. As a barista, he was the last person who should be judging someone else’s coffee habits.

“I’ve had a rough morning.”

“Understandable, of course. You can have all the coffee you deserve – er, want. So that’s a double strong large long black? For Johnny?”

“Yeah, and I’ll have it here.”

“Oh.” Johnny usually ordered a takeaway, and Kun had to rely on his autopilot to continue putting the order through, tapping at the eat-in option and punching in a number 52, reaching for the corresponding table number next to the till. “Sure, just grab a seat wherever and we’ll bring it by.”

“Thank you. I hope you’re having a nice day.” 

“You too.”

Kun retreated shamefully to his spot behind the coffee machine and started work on Johnny’s order. Behind him, Doyoung shook his head, and Ten suddenly appeared next to the coffee machine with a pitiful look.

“This is your first time ever you get to talk to him, and you choose to be judgemental?”

“I’m just tired. Maybe I’ll mess up Johnny’s order on purpose so I can have another coffee.”

“No!” Doyoung’s voice rang out probably louder than intended, and Kun winced, noting Johnny and a few other customers turn to stare at them. “Don’t you dare, Kun. You’ve had eight shots already, I’ve been counting.”

Both Ten and Kun waited until all customers had looked away before continuing their conversation. “You judged a customer for wanting to drink just as much coffee as you do?”

“If anything, I should know best how unhealthy it is.”

“Or you’re just a hypocrite.”

Kun knocked the group head against the coffee bin particularly loudly. “Can’t talk right now, working too hard. Sorry.”

“You suck.”

“I’m not usually the one doing the sucking.”

Doyoung snorted behind his soy cappuccino, nearly choking on it, while Ten rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m outta here.”

…………

Kun thought working at a campus café meant he wouldn’t have to deal with the Christmas period crowds that usually came with retail and restaurants. What he didn’t anticipate was the end of semester assessments that were all due at the same time, and having to manage the sudden extra workload on top of the twenty-five hours a week that he did at the café. It wasn’t that he wasn’t organised; he was well aware of all the tasks he had to complete well before time and he had made a start on all of them, but starting something was very different to finishing it. Kun was not the model student everyone thought he was. 

At any rate, he was far too stressed to be dealing with a new employee and helping train one, and yet there was Yukhei, large and clumsy and waiting to be trained. And Kun, despite having only worked in the café for half a year, was in charge of training him.

“You move your wrist, not your arm,” Kun repeated, not for the first time that day, his blood pressure rising when he noted all the skim milk the boy had spilt on the counter.

“Sorry, boss,” Yukhei muttered sheepishly, his voice somehow still booming when he was being quiet. Kun felt a little bad for making it obvious how frustrated he was. He was really sweet and extremely enthusiastic to learn, and he was only a first year. Kun, a jaded postgrad, didn’t want Yukhei’s very first college job to be a nightmare.

“It’s fine. Let’s try it again? I’ll guide you this time if you need it.”

Yukhei nodded, grabbing the milk carton with as much gusto as he had when he started his shift three hours ago, and Kun couldn’t understand it for the life of him.

“Hi?” a voice sounded from the counter and Kun instantly knew who it was.

“Hey, Johnny,” Kun grinned, “How’re you going?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. Your usual?”

“Coffee number five.” Johnny flashed his teeth and Kun hoped his flush was contained to his ears.

He’d made a habit of bringing up his excessive caffeine consumption ever since the first time Kun had expressed his horror at Johnny’s drinking habits, even though Kun had barely said a word to him since. It wasn’t every single time, and it wasn’t even all too often, but it was often enough that Kun knew Johnny was teasing him.

“So that’s a double strong large long black,” Kun repeated the order – extra strong now because that’s what Johnny’s order had progressed into, “For Johnny, right? Takeaway?” Johnny nodded twice. “Your order will be ready on the side. It won’t be long.”

“Thanks. I hope you’ve continued to have a nice day so far.”

“You too.”

Kun strode over to the machine and tapped Yukhei on the shoulder. “This one’s yours. It’s no milk, so you’ll be fine.” Before the boy could punch the air in victory, Kun leaned in to him. “Don’t bother putting the fifth shot in. He won’t even tell the difference.”

“Wasn’t he here an hour ago?” Yukhei whispered.

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it.”

Yukhei whipped up the long black with no hassle and no spillage, and Kun watched proudly as he called out Johnny’s order and handed it to him. Johnny accepted it with a thanks, as per usual, and took a sip as he walked out, as per usual, but this time he stopped. And turned around.

“It tastes a little weaker today,” he said.

Kun feigned shock while Yukhei glanced nervously back and forth between the two of them. “Is that so? We may have forgotten your fifth espresso. Let me remake it for you–”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll probably be back for another, so one less shot doesn’t really matter. Besides, I don’t want you to waste my drink.”

“That’s not really a problem. I’ll drink it.” Then the rest of what Johnny said registered in his head. “Wait, you’re coming back for coffee number six?! At ten o’clock at night?!”

Johnny raised an eyebrow. “You were going to drink the coffee yourself, weren’t you?”

“That’s different. And I have a long night ahead of me.”

“Well, so do I.” Johnny raised his cup at the two of them. “So good luck with your night then.”

“Y-you too?” Kun called out, but Johnny had already turned on his heel and left. Kun felt the air escape from his chest and he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath that entire time. Yukhei continued glancing between him and the café door in confusion.

Ten chose that exact moment to walk out of the backroom, backpack in tow. He looked Kun dead in the eye and said, “Pathetic.”

……………

Johnny didn’t return the next day.

Kun didn’t worry about it at first. He had his winter composition to worry about and his theory essay and a proposal for his big thesis piece for the year that served as his first year candidature that he’d yet to get started on. He was also focused on training Yukhei up, and Yukhei talked so much about his personal life that Kun grew attached in a very, very short time. He was just about ready to adopt the boy. So for the first three shifts Kun worked that Johnny was a no-show, Kun barely had time to care outside of the hours he spent alone at home or in the music rooms.

He started worrying on the fourth shift on, and – to his horror – found himself feeling somewhat dejected when he left the café after finishing up and the tall student hadn’t shown up. He considered the possibility of Johnny having shown up when Kun wasn’t working, but Doyoung told him he hadn’t seen Johnny either.

It was for the best, Kun supposed. Maybe he had finally cut caffeine from his life. As he should.

Or maybe he finally died.

A week after Johnny’s first no-show, Kun found himself in the campus postgraduate lounge to work on his essay. He didn’t come around often because he usually didn’t have written work to submit, and the music faculty had its own space for postgrads, but he really needed to not bump into anyone he knew if he wanted to finally finish the damn thing. The postgrad association on campus had dedicated spaces for quiet study and Kun intended to claim one of them.

Kun chose a spot by the corner, far away from the one other guy room – it was three in the morning, Kun was surprised anyone was awake at all – so that should any music leak through his headphones, he wouldn’t bother anyone. As he set up his laptop, he did notice the guy crouched over his laptop, a hoodie further covering his face. With growing concern, Kun counted a total of seven crushed cans of Red Bull strew across the desk, and three intact – one opened.

Kun just sat himself down when the guy leaned back, stretching his arms out and then pushing his hair away from his face. He finally got a clear view when Johnny turned his head and looked straight at him, blinking a couple of times before his eyes focused. “Oh. Hello." 

“Hi,” Kun replied, alternating between looking at the deep bags under his eyes and the many Red Bulls on his desk. “Fancy bumping into you here." 

Johnny’s eyes flicked between the cans, Kun and the coffee in Kun’s hand. “Yeah, you too. I didn’t know you were a student here.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m doing a masters in practical music. It’s my first year.”

“I’m doing my masters too. In English literature.”

Kun noted the stack of books on Johnny’s desk. “Oh yes. I should have known.”

“What?”

“Uh,” Kun rubbed the back of his neck, “You always seem to carry a Dickens around. I noticed.”

Johnny’s eyebrows relaxed. “That I do.”

After a long pause, Kun gave Johnny a small smile and made to turn to his laptop, when Johnny’s voice rang out: “I never caught your name.”

“Oh!” Kun swivelled around again. “It’s Kun. It’s on the nametag, usually.”

“I know, but it’s usually so rush-rush I always forget to look down and see it.” Johnny smiled at him tiredly. “Are you working tomorrow? I’ll see you then.”

“Oh, so you’re finally coming in tomorrow?”

Johnny licked at his teeth. “I’ve kind of been in here all week.” He clearly didn’t miss the pointed look Kun made at Johnny’s Red Bulls, and added, “I have a thesis draft due.”

“I see. But you’ll still be coming tomorrow?”

“I miss real coffee.”

Kun chuckled, chucking his headphones on. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Johnny threw him a thumbs-up, and they both got down to work.

It was five in the morning and the sky was getting lighter when Kun finally noted Johnny rising out of his seat. “I’m heading to the 7-Eleven. Want anything?”

Kun yawned, noting that all ten of the Red Bulls on Johnny’s desk were now crushed. “No, I’m okay. I’m pretty sleepy, so I’ll probably go home and take a nap before I start work.”

“When do you start?" 

“7:30. I probably have about half an hour to rest.”

“Crazy but respectable,” Johnny nodded. “Well, it was nice bumping into you on campus, Kun.”

“You too.” Johnny was almost out the door when Kun called out, “And hey, take care of yourself!”

“I could say the same to you,” Johnny responded, before shutting the door.

……………

Kun decided to start with downing three straight espressos to start his morning off. His half hour nap turned out to worse than no sleep at all – Kun’s entire body was sore and screaming for more rest. The only way through it was more caffeine. 

He had suffered two whole hours of his shift when Johnny walked in, just like he said he would. Ten mysteriously disappeared from the front area, and Kun and Johnny exchanged exhausted smiles as Kun strode over to man the register.

“The usual?”

“Yes, please. But can you make it just a strong, this time?”

“How healthy. Are you almost done with your draft, then?”

“…No. I just thought it’d be better.”

“It definitely is.” Kun accepted the cash Johnny held out and put his drink through. “I’ll make your order for you now. You can take a seat and I’ll bring it over. Focus on your thesis.”

“Thanks a lot, Kun, that’s a blessing. I’m over by the window.”

As expected, Ten meandered over to the coffee machine once Johnny was gone. “He called you Kun.”

“I bumped into him in the postgrad lounge last night.” Kun tilted his head, “Well, actually, this morning.”

“Oh my god, did you get your dick sucked in the postgrad lounge? That’s so wild, wait till I tell Taeyong –”

“I did _not_ get my dick sucked and is that Taeyong Lee, president of the postgraduate association? You sure as hell are not going to lie and tell him I got my dick sucked in the postgrad lounge. I intend to do my doctorate here as well and I’m not going to have that reputation over my head for the next god knows how long.”

“Gosh, Kun, I know you don’t have the balls for that. Besides, Taeyong’s sucked my dick there.”

“He’s _what?_ ”

“What are you, sixteen?” Doyoung parted the two of them, a look of unadulterated disgust on his face. “I know for a fact that both of you live in studio apartments and have no need to resort to quickies in a public space.”

“It’s the thrill of it, actually.”

“Please stop talking. I woke up not wanting to be alive this morning and now you’re just making it worse.”

“Mood,” Ten and Kun responded.

“Also, Ten, please do your job and mind the till. There’s a queue.”

Kun glanced at the register area and winced seeing two customers staring at them, and Ten bounced over with a yelp.

Kun brought Johnny’s long black over to him – in a takeaway cup, because he wasn’t sure if Johnny was going to jet or not because he still had his bag on his shoulder even though he was sitting down. “Here you go." 

“Thanks so much.” Johnny gave Kun the widest, most grateful smile and it made Kun’s tired heart soar. “I really needed this.”

“I’m sure you do. But I do hope you’ll slow down once you’ve submitted your draft.”

“No promises.”

Kun rolled his eyes and headed back to the bar to work on the rest of the orders. He prepped the grind and filled up a jug with milk for steaming, as per usual, when he noticed, from the corner of his eye, Johnny throwing his head back and taking a large gulp of his coffee. He then stared openly as Johnny set his bag down, reached into it, and pulled out a can of Red Bull. He couldn’t help his jaw dropping as Johnny flicked the lid of his cup off, opened the can, and proceeded to refill his half-empty coffee with energy drink. In the next five seconds, Johnny had downed both the Red Bull and the caffeine monstrosity.

As Johnny rushed out the store and threw Kun a small smile and a wave, Kun still hadn’t closed his mouth.

“What the fuck was that,” Ten whispered under his breath, and Kun would have been startled if he wasn’t still so horrified.

“Watching him spiked my anxiety,” Doyoung breathed.

“I’m putting a word in to Heechul to ban him.”

“What’s the point? You think Heechul’s going to give up on our best customer like that?”

“It’s worth a try.”

When Kun got back to work, he still hadn’t managed to close his mouth.

……………

Kun was taking a huge risk carrying a plastic bag with two thermoses into the campus postgrad lounge, and it wasn’t just the fact that hot food wasn’t allowed in the study area. But one risk was eliminated when he saw Johnny huddled into the same spot he was before. The taller man looked up when he felt Kun’s presence looming over him.

“Oh, hey. It’s you. You here to study again?”

“No, I have to go to the library today. I need the books.” Kun placed the bag carefully on Johnny’s table so the thermoses weren’t lying on their side. “But I figured you’d be hear all night, so I brought you some dinner.”

“Oh,” Johnny leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair, “Whoa, Kun, you really didn’t need to do that.”

“Yes I did.” Kun crossed his arms. “I can’t stop you from consuming all that caffeine and slowly killing yourself, but I can bring you food so you can at least balance out all that nervous energy with some carbs and vegetables.” He nodded at the bag. “There’s ramen in one and pasta in the other. Don’t worry, I keep being told I’m a good cook.”

“Shit,” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really appreciate this but you didn’t have to do this for me at all. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Just eat it." 

Kun was stopped by an iron grip on his wrist as he turned around to walk away. “Yes?”

“Kun, seriously.” Johnny looked directly at him now, like he was scanning his whole face, and Kun suddenly felt exposed. He gave his wrist a squeeze and Kun was sure Johnny could feel his heart rate spike. “Thank you.”

Kun gently tugged his wrist away and gave Johnny as warm and not-nervous a smile he could muster. “Don’t mention it.”

……………

It was totally coincidental that from that point on, Kun started to focus a little bit more on his essay than his two other far more important assessments, and that had nothing to do with Johnny. In fact, the fact that Johnny happened to always be in the study rooms when Kun showed up was just a bonus, since he was studying literature and much better at words than Kun. It was meant to be a quiet space, but in the wee hours of the morning with hardly anyone around, it didn’t matter how loud their conversations were.

Kun learned a lot about Johnny’s thesis in that time. He was writing about colonial themes in empire-era European literature, and the way Johnny talked about it was fascinating and wordy. He could go on for ages and _ages_.

“In Bleak House, right? This person really tried to argue that the so-called ‘colonial objects’ in the Dombey home were meant to help the reader sympathise with the ‘other’. As if Dickens has ever given a shit about the eastern colonies.”

“I don’t think I’ve read that one.”

Johnny waved his hand in the air and spent the next forty-five minutes animatedly describing, in semi-detail, the events of Bleak House, forty-five minutes that Kun could have spent on his essay but honestly didn’t regret not doing so.

“It sounds fascinating,” Kun said once Johnny was done. “Maybe I should pick it up.”

“Don’t. It’s unnecessarily long and pointless.” Johnny grinned, ”That’s why I told you what happens.”

“It seems to be a genuine commentary on family violence." 

Johnny shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, Dickens was spot on about working-class London. He really knew what he was talking about, considering he lived it and all. But he lost all my respect he wrote The Great Expectations calling upper class London out for exploiting the lower classes, but then he had Pip make his fortune in ‘the East’ and that was somehow okay.”

It was a lot of words for Kun to get his head around at that hour of the morning, but he pretended to understand. “I see what you mean.”

“I’m oversimplifying, and my supvervisor would probably have a few choice words for me if I talked about Dickens like that. I’m only writing on Dickens for him.”

“What would you rather write your thesis on?”

“Austen.” Johnny rested his chin in his hand, a wistful smile on his face, “And her construction of romance.”

Kun chuckled. “I’m sure a million things have been written about that.”

“I don’t care. I could talk about it forever.”

“I wouldn’t have pinned you as the romantic type.”

“Well, I wanted it. Once.” Johnny stretched his arms up behind his head.

Kun frowned. “You don’t want romance anymore?”

“No time.” Johnny shrugged, “I mean, I could feel something for someone but where am I going to get the time to build something with them? I’m pretty okay with just living vicariously through other people’s writing and sucking someone’s dick when I get particularly horny.”

Kun watched as Johnny cracked his neck, and the way the muscles of his shoulder moved under his t-shirt. “You do the sucking, huh?”

“Did you say something?”

“No.”

……………

The thing about working at a twenty-four-seven campus café was that the busy periods were all weird. There was the 7:45am and the 8:45am rush, obviously, but there was also the 4:10pm, the 5:10pm, the 6:10pm, and the mini-rushes they got every hour. Kun usually never got more than a six-hour shift, so he didn’t mind always being on his toes, but it had definitely begun to weigh down on him about eight into his eleven-hour. (On top of his usual shift he was covering for Jungwoo, who apparently had an important family gathering to attend. It was a Friday night, and Kun suspected Jungwoo’s family gathering was actually an outing to the local club.)

“You have three whole hours left?” Johnny gasped, raised eyebrows, from the other side of the counter, “But you’ve been here all day!”

“It’s not the worst.” It was the worst. “I get two extra free coffees this shift to cope.”

“On top of all the secret refills you have anyway?” Ten commented, sidling over to help Kun steam some milk for the sudden jump in orders they just had.

“Secret refills?” Johnny’s lips spread into a sly smirk, and Kun hated that he was watching. “And you’re worried about _my_ caffeine intake?”

Kun flushed and Ten guffawed. “If you knew how many shots of espresso he keeps sneaking into his coffee every day, you’d wonder why he wasn’t vibrating.” 

“Same,” Johnny mused, leaning over the counter to look for said coffee. (It was in the corner by the cardboard cup trays and the napkins.) “But also concerning.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Kun sniffed. Ten twisted so his face was hidden from Johnny’s view (but still in perfectly visible to Kun) and made a gagging expression. Kun ignored him. 

“Maybe I should be making you dinner too.”

“Dinner?” Ten piped up. “What’s this?”

Kun had only briefly mentioned to his co-workers that he bumped into Johnny once while studying and then that had become a more frequent appearance. He hadn’t bothered elaborating and telling them that they actually studied together every single night after Kun brought him dinner (and sometimes breakfast and lunch) to make sure he was eating. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if he told them.

“Oh, uh, we’re kind of friends now. Kun brings me dinner every night after his shift.”

Kun pretended there was an issue with the milk steamer on his end and kept turning the knob on and off as if he was testing it.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah." 

Kun noted Ten pouring out a small cappuccino and swipes it off the counter as soon as he puts the lid on. “Order for Sulli?” he called out loudly.

“How… _diligent_.”

“I think it’s sweet. And now that I know he’s as bad as I am, it’s only right that one bro who’s going to die of heart palpitations would stick out for another.” Johnny caught Kun’s attention before he could hurry back to the coffee grinder by reaching over the counter for his hand. (His _hand_. Johnny grasped his _hand_.) “Hey, let me pay for your next grocery bill. You make so much food for me and I eat it all in one sitting.”

“It’s no big deal, really,” Kun insisted, “It’s all stuff I already have at home after buying for myself.” Kun squeezed Johnny’s fingers before pulling away to swipe Johnny’s long black away from the machine just as the last of the crema formed on it. He shoved a lid on top. “Here you go.”

“I have to pay you back somehow at least.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Kun smiled, waving him away. “Go on, you have a thesis draft due next week.”

Johnny’s face fell instantly at the thought of his draft – Kun could relate – and he gave him a three finger wave as he walked out the café door. Kun pretended not to notice as he pulled one of those dreaded Red Bulls out of his backpack. “I’ll see you later, Kun?”

“Yeah, see you.”

Kun and Ten got busy working on drinks, Ten occasionally leaving Kun to rush to the till, chuck some focaccias in the toaster, serve Joy her chocolate-hazelnut croissant. Kun was thankful for the rush; he wouldn’t have to deal with any of Ten’s snide comments.

Or so he thought.

“Didn’t realise you cooked, Kun,” Ten mused, a whole fifteen minutes later. “I was under the impression it was all cup noodles and microwave pizza with you. You know, since you don’t have the time.” 

“I’ve decided to be more healthy and make the time,” Kun replied.

“Sure. I’ll believe that one when you do.”

……………

Kun was aware how frazzled he looked when he stepped into the study area with a whole crockpot and a bag of disposable plates and cutlery – it was a wonder no one had caught him yet. Johnny nearly fell off his chair in surprise as Kun dumped the load onto the table next to him.

“Oh, Kun,” Johnny grinned, once his two feet were firmly back on the ground and he had regained his composure, “If you wanted to have a sit-down dinner with me, you should’ve just said so.”

Kun was easy to flush and had to silently tell his stupid brain to stop thinking it was any more than a joke. “This is all for you.” He plugged the crockpot into the table’s powerpoint – it worked, thank goodness – and pulled each of the plates, bowls, spoons and forks out onto the table. “Here, you can use the bag for your trash. I hope you’ll be going home tonight.”

“Yeah, probably for a shower.” Johnny’s voice was softer than usual. “It’s going to be interesting for whoever’s up at almost 6am watching a big, stinky student carrying a crockpot to his apartment." 

Kun chuckled. “How’s your draft going?”

“It’s going. I’m about a third of the way in.”

“Isn’t it due next week?”

Johnny winced, and Kun understood. “…Yes. I’ll manage. Somehow. How’s your composition going?”

Kun groaned. “It’s finished and it’s fine, but it feels so lifeless. No matter how much feeling I put into it when I play it, it just sounds dull. Not final piece worthy.”

“What’s it meant to make you feel?”

“Like Christmas? I don’t know. I don’t know if I want it to be happy Christmas or sad Christmas.” Kun scratched the back of his neck. “Honestly, the whole thing just feels like exhaustion.”

Johnny frowned. “Maybe that’s your problem? If you don’t know what you’re going for?”

“Probably.”

“Oh!” Johnny snapped his fingers, “I know what you should do! Change the entire song to A flat minor.”

Kun raised an eyebrow. “A flat minor? Why?”

He shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“Do you know how much effort it’ll take to change the entire _key_ of a song?”

“No clue. I don’t know anything about music but I thought I’d try to be helpful.”

The dumb comment combined with Johnny’s sheepish, dumb as fuck smile, combined with the time of morning and how tired he was had Kun in stitches, clutching at his sides as he bend over the table. “Oh,” he wiped a tear threatening to spill out of his eye, “That’s cute that you think that helps.”

“That’s cute how you laughed like that,” Johnny responded without missing a beat – Kun nearly got whiplash at how quickly he turned his head towards the other student.

“Aha,” Kun laughed nervously, “Well, I actually have to get going.”

“What?” Johnny started to stand up in protest, but Kun pushed his shoulders firmly against the back of his chair. “You’re not studying?”

“I need the music rooms. Figure out my composition and all that. I’ve been focusing on my theory essay for too long and it’s under control, frankly.”

Johnny started to get up again. “I’ll come with you.”

Kun pushed him back down and let his hand rest on Johnny’s shoulder, lest he try to move again. “You can’t bring hot food with you,” he said, nodding his head towards the crockpot.

“You can’t bring hot food in here either.”

“Yeah, but… you _really_ can’t bring hot food in there.”

Johnny slumped in his seat and Kun was confident that he wasn’t going to protest, so he made a move for the door. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Johnny placed a hand on his chest and gazed up at the ceiling. “I’ll miss you! Don’t forget me!”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

The last thing Kun saw before walking out was Johnny’s cheeky grin, and he suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore.

…………… 

Kun is shocked to find Johnny rugged up knitwear and a thick puffy jacket, shivering outside the music and performing arts building. “What are you doing here?" 

“Waiting for you,” Johnny stuttered, teeth chattering. It was evident he’d been waiting there a while. “I thought you finished work at seven today.”

Kun quickly shoved his key card in front of the scanner and ushered Johnny inside. “I went home to take a shower. Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d come with you to the music rooms this time. So you wouldn’t have to waste time bringing me food and all.” Johnny pulled his scarf and started moving his fingers around. Kun noted they looked pale. “I ordered Uber Eats.”

“You can do that?" 

“Oh, yeah. I do it all the time.”

Kun reached for Johnny’s hands, because the constant cracking of his knuckles was irritating him. A couple of passersby gave them strange looks – a pointed stare in the case of one of Kun’s classmates who happened to be walking by – as Kun rubbed the tips of Johnny’s fingers between his palms. “What were you thinking, standing outside like that? It’s freezing!” 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know you couldn’t enter the music building without a pass. Why is that? It’s a university building! They even let you go into the science labs after hours.” Johnny blew a strand of his fringe away from his face. “I mean, I’m assuming. I never go to the science labs.”

“They’re actually restricted too. Just science students.” 

“Lame.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kun breathed, finally letting go of Johnny’s hands now that they were appropriately warmed up. “You could have frozen to death. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just waited at the postgrad lounge.”

“It also wouldn’t have happened if I had your number,” Johnny pointed out, handing Kun his phone. “Plus once my thesis draft is done, you might not bump into me in the lounge anymore.” 

Cheeky.

Kun led him to the piano studio he reserved himself for the semester. It wasn’t the biggest space so the acoustics weren’t perfect, but he did have the best grand piano in the building and even a small table next to a plug point for him to work on other things. One of the benefits of being one of two pianists in the masters program was that he didn’t have to share it with anyone else. They chatted for a while until Johnny had to go pick up the food he ordered (salad and sandwiches, because they _really_ couldn’t do hot food in the music building) and then they fell back into their usual rhythm of working on their respective tasks and asking each other the occasional question. Kun worried for a bit that he was too loud and tried to play a little quieter, which he quickly realised was a stupid idea. Johnny’s brief reassuring smiles as he played also told him that he must not have been bothering the man that much.

After a while, Kun noticed that Johnny wasn’t in his usual pose he had when he was concentrating – instead, he had his chin in his hand as he stared dreamily at his laptop screen. “What are you doing?”

Johnny’s shoulders jumped as he turned to stare at Kun like a deer in headlights. “Uh…”

“I’m not going to judge you if you’re not studying. I just want to know what you’re reading that has you looking like that.”

Johnny buried his face in his hands and slowly moved them up to move his hair away from his face. “Well, I’m reading these letters that Vita Sackville-West wrote to Virginia Woolf. Er, they’re both authors. And lovers. In this one, she’s writing to Virginia while she’s away and,” Johnny whistled, “Damn.”

Kun leaned his chin on the body next to the keys so that he could get a better look at Johnny. “Is it a love letter?”

Johnny nodded. “She feels totally inferior to Virginia, and I can feel it so much, it’s crazy. Here, let me read you this bit: ‘I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of it’s reality. Whereas with me, it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed’,” Johnny’s breath hitched then, “’And I was prepared to miss you a good deal.’” 

As Johnny read out that part of the letter, Kun felt like someone had stabbed a knife into his stomach and twisted till he couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He _felt_ that – so incredibly, extremely greatly. It wasn’t like he was in love with Johnny like Vita was with Virginia, but he’d definitely come to grow feelings for him, and he felt totally inadequate because Johnny was so well-read and intelligent and Kun only read young adult novels in high school and never had the time to read the classics he wanted to during his tertiary education. He didn’t even know if Johnny liked him back, and he definitely didn’t have the courage to ask because any confession Kun made would be so plain, and Johnny would be so unimpressed and probably never even hang out with him again.

That was the argument Kun’s brain had made to him before, and listening to the letter Johnny read out just solidified it.

“Pretty good, huh?” Johnny asked, and Kun was forced out of his train of thought.

“Yeah.” His throat felt dry, and he could barely get the sounds out. “Pretty good.”

……………

Despite popular belief, Kun _did_ like a good party and getting piss drunk and making out with the hottest guy he could make pay attention to him. (The making out and sometimes more usually only came after Kun had had a sufficient amount of alcohol, because there was _no way_ he could be that confident sober.) It’s just that people usually had their parties at weird points of the semester, like when everyone had things due, and he was never able to make it. He understood the logic behind having a party at that time – it was a form of stress relief – but Kun only got more stressed _not_ doing his work.

He couldn’t turn Doyoung down after he poured his heart out to him about how nervous he was meeting all of his new boyfriend’s friends all at once and how he really didn’t want to go alone, though.

Since he was at the party, he decided he might as well make the most out of it. Kun went to his first pre-drinks since he was nineteen and made sure he was well and truly tipsy by the time he arrived at the actual party. Doyoung’s boyfriend – Yuta, Kun learned his name was – had a lot of friends and a whole two-storey luxury penthouse apartment to himself because not only was his family rich, he also happened to create a dating app that made it big and sold it for “roughly $17 million dollars”. So he was very, very rich.

Doyoung failed to mention he was close friends with Johnny, too, but that surprise definitely wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary – Kun found himself spending most of the night and most of his drinks with him. Kun’s torso started to feel too heavy for his legs, and he had to lean against Yuta’s kitchen counter to make sure he didn’t tip over. Johnny was standing but every once in a while he swayed and had to grip onto Kun’s arm to stay upright.

“Kun to the rescue once again,” he breathed against Kun’s ear. The younger boy could only shiver.

“You’re too big to be this drunk this quickly,” Kun half-yelled at him. 

“Not drunk. Tipsy.”

“You seem drunk.”

“Oh my god, Kun, relax,” Johnny threw a painful arm around his shoulder and Kun found himself pressed against his chest. “You’re always so stressed out. You gotta live a little!”

“Am I not living now?” 

“It’s not enough.” Johnny brushed his thumb over Kun’s jawbone, and his hands were so cold they made Kun jump. “You’re always exhausted and I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I want to.” Kun thought he could be hallucinating Johnny moving closer, but the hand roaming over his face said otherwise. “I want to have to worry about you.”

Kun’s eyes focused in on Johnny’s face, and closer onto his lips, and he thought: fuck it. He didn’t bother starting chaste, going straight for Johnny’s lower lip and biting it, relishing in the way Johnny’s eyes widened as he tugged at it and let his teeth drag along the surface as he pulled away. The last thing Kun saw before Johnny descended on him was his eyes darken – it was easy to see in the bright lights of the apartment. They were surrounded by people in that kitchen, but with his head buzzing and Johnny’s tongue probing every corner of his mouth, Kun found he didn’t really care.

“I’ve been wanting to do this with you too,” Johnny whispered in between kisses, and suddenly his shirt and Johnny’s shirt were both too hot for him.

He dragged Johnny to the closest closed door he could find, which happened to be Yuta’s laundry – a tiny, darklit place with a washing machine and some cleaning utensils. Johnny grabbed a mop and sloppily shoved it against the handle of the door, hoping that would be enough to barricade it, and Kun leaned against the washing machine, watching his arms flex as he struggled with it and then watching those same arms rest on either side of him.

“You know,” Johnny half-whispered, “I’m pretty sure you’re the best thing that’s happened to me this year.”

It wasn’t the first time Johnny had said it that night – that was how he’d addressed Kun when Doyoung introduced him to Yuta’s closest circle. Kun took it as a joke then and he was going to take it as a joke now.

Johnny’s mouth was hot on Kun’s neck and he relaxed into his touch. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system making him hypersensitive, but he was hitting all of the right places to make all of Kun’s nerves fly straight south. Kun responded by pressing his hips to Johnny’s and sliding his hands underneath his shirt and up his chest. 

Johnny’s lips curled against the surface of his neck, and Kun wanted to scream – of _course_ Johnny was still teasing him. “You’re so needy,” he crooned.

Kun pressed their hips together again, this time a little more roughly, more disciplinary. “Is that a bad thing?”

He should’ve just kept his mouth shut because Johnny bit at a particularly sensitive spot of his ear and Kun had to swallow a moan. “No.”

“Fuck,” Kun cursed under his breath when Johnny lapped roughly at that exact same spot. It made him feel so good, but some insecure part of him that apparently nothing could suppress started telling him that maybe he was too pushy, maybe he hadn’t considered if Johnny had actually wanted this – 

“If at any point you don’t want to keep going,” Kun started, but he was shut up by Johnny licking a whole strip up from his collarbone to his ear, knocking the breath out of him. “Fuck!”

Kun felt Johnny smile against his skin again and he wanted to know if Johnny would still be smiling if he smacked him. “Does it look like I don’t want to keep going?”

Kun decided it was best to not say anything else and let Johnny nudge his jaw upwards with his mouth to settle into another sensitive spot, settling his arms around Johnny’s waist for convenience as Johnny clumsily unbuttoned Kun’s shirt.

“I want what you want,” Johnny murmured, almost gently (and maybe affectionately, even if Kun didn’t want to believe it). “Anything you want me to do tonight, I’ll do it.”

Kun wasn’t sure if it was Johnny’s lips ghosting over the top of his sternum or the words that did it. He let out a sharp hiss through his teeth and grasped at Johnny’s shirt sitting under his palms. “Johnny…”

Whatever Kun wanted to say (he wasn’t sure himself) was lost when Johnny dragged his fingers down his sides and palmed softly at his semi. In his drunken state, Kun felt everything more acutely and he couldn’t stop the embarrassingly loud moan escaping his throat. He felt Johnny’s lips leave his chest and after a moment, he opened his eyes to find Johnny standing up straight again, his fingers tucked into the band of Kun’s jeans, a big, irritating smirk on his face.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” he said, wiggling an eyebrow. The expression got on Kun’s nerves, and instead of answering, he grabbed a handful of Johnny’s hair and pushed down till he was on his knees (and maybe Johnny helped by kneeling himself, because alcohol was liquid confidence, not liquid strength).

To Kun’s chagrin, Johnny just giggled. “Someone’s hasty.”

“Shut up.”

…………… 

When Johnny walked in through the café doors for the first time during Kun’s shift that evening, he decided it was time to take a bathroom break. No matter that it had only been an hour into his shift – he just couldn’t be out there facing Johnny again. Ten and Doyoung both shot him a strange look but neither could say much when the café was mostly empty on a Sunday afternoon and there wasn’t a terrible amount to do. He was sure Johnny caught him running out the back, but frankly, Kun didn’t care.

Kun sat inside one of the two cubicles for a good ten minutes until there was a knock on both doors. “He’s gone,” Doyoung’s voice rang out.

Kun isn’t sure how he knew but he supposed it was obvious. They had made out in full view of everyone at the party last night.

He maintained the habit every time Johnny walked into the café, and by coffee #4, Ten had begun to warn him when he could see Johnny _outside_ the store. Neither him nor Doyoung asked any questions. 

It was when Kun finally took his thirty-minute break, when things were _really_ dead, that Ten sauntered into the backroom to find him.

“Okay,” Ten said, pulling a crate up next to where Kun sat at the manager’s desk and using the folded up cardboard box from their almond milk delivery that morning as a cushion. “I think you know what I’m going to ask you.”

Kun pouted before he could stop himself. “It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, well, I told Doyoung to yell if he needs help. And neither of us are going to complain if you take more than half an hour. So what’s up?”

Kun twisted his cup of coffee around so the logo was facing him. “I slept with Johnny.”

“I fail to see how this is a bad thing,” Ten grinned. Kun couldn’t find it in himself to return the smile, and it seemed Ten could tell because the smile dropped off of his face too. “Oh, Kun, what happened? Did he hurt you?”

“No!” Kun traced the rim of his cup. “Well, not intentionally.” 

He stared at nothing in particular while he waited for Ten to say something, but after a minute’s silence he realised he was probably doing the same for him. Kun glanced at Ten’s expectant expression and sighed.

“It was a mistake, I think. We were both drunk as hell and he passed out soon after and I don’t know. He texted me in the morning to ask how I was doing and I didn’t respond because I don’t want him to feel obliged to talk to me just because I bring him dinner and study with him and –”

“Whoa, there,” Ten laughed nervously, “You haven’t even gotten started and I can tell you’re all over the place.”

So Kun had to get straight to the point. “I like him,” he gritted out. “A lot. I mean, a _lot_. I don’t think it was good for me to just fuck him like that and I don’t think he knows I like him either, so it’s double not good. Does that make sense? I don’t know if I’m making sense.”

“You’re making sense.” Ten tapped at his chin. “I don’t know Johnny that well, but he doesn’t seem like the type to have casual sex?”

“Oh no,” Kun shook his head, “He does. He told me he prefers that nowadays.”

Just verbalising it was enough to make his heart drop. Kun took a swig of his coffee wishing it was actually a glass of red wine, lurking hangover be damned. 

“Oh, Kun.” The expression on Ten’s face when Kun turned his head to see it would probably have been comical in any other situation, what with his pout and his exaggeratedly furrowed brow. But he only felt a rush of affection when Ten wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ten.”

“I’m still sorry it hurts like that. I’ve been there.” He pulled away. “I didn’t know you liked Johnny that much.”

Kun snorted. “Shit happens.”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Ten reached over and squeezed his arm. “You’re the sweetest soul I know, Kun. You deserve a nice boy who likes you back more than anyone else does. Or at least more than I do.” 

Kun chuckled. “Stop.” 

“It’s true!"

Doyoung’s loud “Ten!” barred the aforementioned from saying anything else he wanted to say, and he shot to his feet and rolled up his shirt sleeves. “Ooh, I’m going to rally Doyoung to blacklist Johnny from the café!”

“Please don’t do that.”

“We can argue it on health claims!” Ten continued, ignoring Kun as he walked towards the door, “Oh, bring your petition to ban him back! I’ll actually sign it this time.”

The door had slammed shut before Kun could discourage him further. 

……………

Kun stopped going to the postgrad study rooms, Johnny stopped texting him, and eventually Johnny stopped coming to the café altogether. Kun justified the empty feeling as fuel for his composition, which had become a tale of unrequited love during Christmas time. He reworked the whole thing in a twenty-four-hour-straight frenzy and found that it didn’t feel dull anymore – it just stung a little bit.

“Seriously,” Taeil sighed after Kun was done with one of his playthroughs, “Who hurt you?”

“No one hurt me.” Kun smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes and he was sure that was painfully obvious. “This is purely hypothetical.”

“My ass. The pain feels way too real to me, and I’ve literally never had someone not love me back.”

Kun tilted his head. “That’s kind of the point?” 

“No way, José. This is piece is raw emotion. I can smell it.”

Kun hoped that when he was a PhD student, he didn’t speak the way Taeil did. “You can think what you want, but I was merely trying to imagine what it would be like if my lover rebuked me.”

“Are you listening to yourself? The language you’re using? I’ve known you for the past four years and I’ve never heard you talk like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you know big words and you don’t know how to use them! I hate it. Is this that guy’s fault too?”

Kun feigned innocence. “Hypothetically, if there was a someone, as you suggest, how are you so sure it’s a guy?”

“You’re gay as a kite, Kun.”

“Kites are gay?”

“You’re gay as a rainbow kite.”

“That was terrible. Maybe you need to start reading more books.”

Taeil snapped his fingers, “Ah, so he’s from the literature school!”

“What?!” Kun nearly fell off his chair, “How do you even _know_ that?”

“Because I know for a fact that the last whole book you read was The Hunger Games back when the movie came out, because you told me.” Taeil shrugged, “Also, been there, done that. I know what it’s like.” 

“You’re so weird. You keep pulling these things out of your ass that happened to you and I don’t get how you’ve had that much life experience at twenty-four.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

Kun picked at his nails. It wasn’t like him and Taeil were the best of friends. Taeil, music major and treasurer of the university choir, was a third year he met on his first day of uni and latched onto because he was going to do an honours year, probably, and Kun wanted to get a head start on getting to know all the honours convenors in the music school to kickstart his own path to PhD. He’d made the decision to pursue academia as a sixteen-year-old, thinking it’d be great to be a professional musician but he also wanted to teach, but he _also_ didn’t want to teach kids in case it would make him actually hate kids. (One of his aunts taught high school and he’d heard some horror stories.)

Taeil turned out to be a great source of help, randomly appearing whenever Kun needed advice or cheering up, but mostly he wasn’t present, doing god knows what in his free time. Kun didn’t talk about himself an awful lot and vice versa, but Taeil also had an uncanny knack of remembering and holding onto minor things Kun might have mentioned off-hand. 

So he didn’t feel comfortable with Taeil, but he did know Taeil had never failed to help him when he needed it and didn’t want it. “There is a guy.”

“Mhm, literature school.” Taeil’s eyes moved like he was reading something, but he was just staring at the ceiling. “How old is he?”

“Older. By a year. He’s doing his second year in his masters program.”

“Hot. Too young for me, but hot.”

“Can you not interrupt me with your dumb comments? It’s really throwing me off.”

“Sorry. Zipping up." 

Kun closed his eyes. “He was a friend of mine that I fell for, but we got drunk once, and… well, we’re not talking anymore.”

“Who stopped talking first? Was it you or was it him?” 

“It was me, but,” Kun cracked his knuckles, “I never stood a chance, really.”

“Ah. So this is a Taylor Swift, you-broke-my-heart-and-now-I’ll-never-get-it-back song.”

Kun nearly choked. “Taeil!”

“What? I’m not wrong.” Taeil pursed his lips. “How do you know you never stood a chance?”

Kun hesitated. “Well, I’m not sure why he’d like me, to be honest. I just make his coffee.”

“I thought he was your friend?”

“That… happened by accident. But we just studied together, I suppose. We weren’t that close. I listened to him talk about his thesis and he watched me play.” 

“Did he watch you play that?” Taeil asked, pointing at his sheet music.

“Oh no! I wrote this after,” Kun winced, “Well, everything.”

“Hm. I’m not entirely convinced there’s no way he can like you, but if he doesn’t then you should make him watch you play this piece. I’m sure he’s guaranteed to fall at your feet.”

Kun’s eyes widened. “No way! I’m never showing him this. Besides, it’s for the best – I won’t play as good if by some off chance he actually likes me back.” Kun paused. “And he definitely doesn’t.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

Kun believed he had to be – it was much easier to forget about Johnny that way. He didn’t say it out loud, though.

……………

It was the Saturday night after the last day of semester. The café was empty – no one was sticking around campus after it was all over. But Kun, unfortunately, still had to work. 

(Ten had tried to petition to have Heechul close the shop the weekend after the end of semester so they could rest too, but he was having none of it.)

Kun finally finished his shift at 10pm, a decent hour compared to the ones he’d found himself working over the past week in order to accommodate for the final rush of the semester and still make rent. He was packing his apron into his backpack when Doyoung strolled casually out the back. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Kun slung his bag on his shoulder and headed outside to find, to his horror and to his delight, Johnny standing at the counter, two thermoses tucked under one arm. “Johnny?”

“Hey,” he huffed, as if he’d come running, and dumped the two thermoses on the bar counter. “I heard you just got off work.”

Kun immediately looked at Doyoung, who averted his gaze, and he knew he was responsible for this. “I did. What are you doing here?”

“I brought you food.” Johnny tapped the top of one of the thermoses. The cap looked unnaturally shiny, and Kun noticed a price sticker on the bottom. “Home-made this time!"

“Did you just buy those?”

“Uh, yes. Yes I did.” Johnny scratched the back of his neck.

“That’s…” Kun wanted to say cute, because _god_ it really was, but it would set off a minefield that Kun didn’t want to deal with, both for the two of them and for himself.

After a minute’s silence, Doyoung finally piped up: “If you’re going to stare at each other longingly for the rest of the night, you’re better off getting a table.” 

Kun flushed as Doyoung led Johnny to a small table for two– as far away from the counter as possible, which he was thankful for. Kun made himself and Johnny a coffee, both significantly weaker versions of their usual order.

“Figured you won’t need the caffeine as much anymore,” Kun said when he placed the coffees down on their table.

Johnny looked guilty. “Well…” Kun was about to interrupt him but Johnny continued quickly, “I’m just used to the taste of strong coffee now. Everything else just tastes like water.”

Kun scoffed. “Then don’t have coffee?”

“Like you can talk. You’re just as addicted to caffeine as I am.”

Kun sucked on his teeth. “Okay. Fair enough.”

“How have you been?” Johnny took a sip of his coffee. He was looking Kun directly in the eye and although it was gentle and meant no harm, Kun had to look away. “It’s been a while since we bumped into each other.”

Kun looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean, I totally ghosted you. I should have at least tried to talk or –”

“All things considered, I can understand why you would.” Johnny played with the end of his ear, “But – I mean, I don’t want to be too forward, but I miss spending time with you.” 

“Me too,” Kun responded instantly, before he even knew what he was saying. His brain churned out a million follow-ups to that and his mouth came to a halt, but Johnny smiled brightly at him and he had to force himself to continue. “I overreacted. I mean, it was just a one-time thing and didn’t mean anything, so I’m not sure why I freaked out like that.”

Johnny’s smile still remained but his expression had become unreadable. “Like I said, I can understand it.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence after that, Kun trying not to meet his eye. He didn’t know how to decipher Johnny’s expression. Maybe he was annoyed that Kun didn’t move on from the subject.

Johnny pushed one of the thermoses over to Kun’s end of the table. “Eat.”

Thankful for the distraction, he grabbed for it and the fork he’d snuck from the kitchen. “What is it? You said it was home-made.”

“Just mi goreng! Nothing fancy, I just used the flavouring from the packet. And then maybe added some other sauces and stuff.”

Kun raised an eyebrow. “You made this? I thought you didn’t cook.”

“I have to start some time, don’t I?”

The smell that hit his nose wasn’t exactly appetizing, and he noted the strange globules of what was probably the flavouring oil that Johnny seemed to have mixed in last minute. “It looks lovely.”

“Does it really?”

Johnny had asked that with so much earnest that Kun didn’t feel like lying to him. He decided to dig in instead, and cringed as soon as the noodles were in his mouth – it was _not_ good.

“Oh god,” Johnny groaned, “I knew I should have tasted it before bringing it over!”

Kun chewed carefully so that none of the food would hit his tongue. “Did you put fish sauce in this?”

“Yeah. Is it too much?” 

“It’s _very_ too much. Wow.” Kun took a closer look at his noodles. “And these aren’t fully cooked either. How long did you leave them in for?”

“Five minutes?”

“Five minutes in boiling water?”

Johnny’s eye twitched. “Oh yeah.”

“How are you such a disaster? What do you _eat_?”

“Takeout. Until you came along.”

Kun hoped he didn’t flush as much as he thought he did. “I suppose it’s the thought that counts. Thank you for making me dinner, Johnny. Even if I can’t eat it.”

Johnny answered almost too quickly, “Next time I’ll take you out somewhere instead.”

Kun froze. “Take me out?”

“Yeah, to eat something. Since it’s still my turn to feed you. Today doesn’t count.”

Kun sucked on his teeth a while. “Sounds good. I’m down.”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“I’m working.”

Johnny frowned. “Well, I’m sticking around campus for Christmas. My parents decided to go on a holiday I can’t afford, so I won’t be spending it with them.”

“Me too. I’m waiting on a final verdict from my supervisor to see if they want me to perform my winter piece at the Christmas recital next week." 

“When do you hear about that?”

“Monday. I have that whole day off, by the way." 

“Good! We’ll go for dinner on Monday night to celebrate your piece being accepted for the recital.” 

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then we’ll eat to forget.”

It wasn’t like Kun was going to decline anyway.

……………

Kun excitedly texted Johnny as soon as he found out.

_To Johnny Seo:_  
I’m playing at the recital!!  
They want me to play first!  
I’m so EXCITED

_From Johnny Seo:_  
OMG  
Kun this is fantastic  
Congratulations!

_To Johnny Seo:  
_ Thank you!!!

_From Johnny Seo:  
_ When is it?

_To Johnny Seo:_  
Friday next week  
At 6:45

_From Johnny Seo:_  
On campus?  
I think I can make it 

_To Johnny Seo:_  
Omg you don’t have to come  
It’s fine

_From Johnny Seo:_  
Are you kidding? I wanna see what you did with your song  
Besides you look great when you play piano

_To Johnny Seo:_  
Haha  
You can come if you want to  
But on one condition  
My family can’t make it and I promised I’d film my performance for them  
And I don’t trust any of my friends

_From Johnny Seo:_  
I’ll do it  
Soooooo about dinner

_To Johnny Seo:  
_ I’m still free tonight

_From Johnny Seo:_  
It’s a little far away so I’ll pick you up?  
Probably around 7

_To Johnny Seo:_  
It’s a date  
Omg that was awkward  
I meant a friend date lmao

_From Johnny Seo:_  
Yeah def a friend date  
Lol  
I’ll see you later

It wouldn’t be the last time that day Kun was left wondering exactly what Johnny was thinking.

……………

Kun was glad he couldn’t see the audience from the wings unless he walked up to the stage and poked his head through the curtains. (Which he wasn’t going to do. Not after what happened in the second grade.) He was slowly receiving texts from his friends who said they had arrived and the gravity of how many people he’d invited to come watch him was starting to hit. It was scary, especially when he was practically going to lay all his feelings bare through his music.

_From Doyoung Kim:_  
We’re here!  
Yuta and I and Johnny too  
I’m so excited! 

Kun felt like he wanted to throw up.

His not-date with Johnny felt suspiciously like a date, but also not like one. Johnny held the door open for him and pulled out his chair and footed the bill, but their conversations were just like the ones they had before. Neither of them discussed Yuta’s party at length. It was almost like nothing changed. 

Kun thought ‘almost’ because Johnny had walked him all the way up to his apartment door and squeezed his shoulder when he said goodbye and as physical as Johnny usually was, that was certainly different.

_From Johnny Seo:_  
I’m here! Sixth row from the front  
I’m with Yuta and Doyoung  
Break a leg <3

Kun eyed the heart before locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket. He was glad he didn’t have read receipts turned on. 

“Hey,” Taeil whispered by his ear. He didn’t think it was weird – Taeil was probably just trying to rest his voice. “Don’t sweat it too much, you’ll kill it.”

“Thanks,” Kun whispered back, grudgingly accepting the ruffle of his hair before Taeil went back to his vocal exercises.

“Kun Qian?” Kun turned to find Minseok Kim, supervisor of the PhD program and usually the one who organised the end of semester recitals, addressing him. “Your winter ballade is fantastic. I’m so excited for the audience to see you perform it.” 

“Th-thank you, Professor Kim.”

“Don’t thank me! I’d love to talk more but I’m afraid I have to go begin the show. You’re performing first, yes?” Kun nodded. “Well, I’d wish you good luck, but I doubt you’ll need it.”

Kun flushed. He didn’t normally get stage fright but he felt like he suddenly had a lot to live up to.

As Minseok adjusted his microphone stand on stage, Kun quickly pulled his phone out and looked at Johnny’s last message again.

It would be his fuel for the performance, he decided.

……………

There was a tiny room to the side of the stage that Kun managed to snag to meet his friends, group by group, after the recital was over. He played his fingers out, his heart was hurting, and he was tired of fielding off questions about who his music was about – but he was happy to have them around all the same.

Yuta had popped in quickly, and very alone – Kun knew Doyoung had to rush to work, but he was obviously upset at the lack of Johnny – giving him some words of congratulations and placing a large bouquet of brightly coloured dried flowers on the lone desk in the room.

“This is from Johnny,” Yuta told him. “Although I’m sure you knew that already.”

Kun definitely hadn’t missed the flowers from whenever he glanced at the sixth row from the corner of his eye. “Yeah.”

Yuta had a coy look in his eye. “He’ll be here later. He said he had to do something real quick. He really liked your performance, though.” 

“I’m sure he did.” 

“Can you stay in this room long?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not taken for the rest of the night. Why?”

“Stay here. I’ll tell Johnny to meet you here when he’s done.”

“What’s he doing, anyway?”

Yuta rolled his eyes. “I never know with that kid.”

It was a good fifteen minutes and all his friends had disappeared before Johnny burst through the doors. “Kun!”

“Johnny!” Kun surveyed his appearance, noting the wet patches on his coat shoulders. “Is it raining?”

“Snowing,” Johnny huffed, leaning against the wall.

“You went out in the snow?!”

“Relax, it isn’t that heavy. Just snowflakes.” Johnny pulled his scarf and beanie off. “Wow, it’s _hot_ in here!”

“Were you running?” Johnny was removing his coat, and Kun had the urge to remove his sweater for him. It definitely wasn’t this hard watching him and not being able to touch him the previous week, but just then, Kun was struggling. The room wasn’t big, but they were on opposite ends of it, and the table with Johnny’s bouquet stood between them. It felt like an eternity.

“Yeah.” Johnny tugged at the knitted fingers of his gloves one at a time before pulling them off. “That song you played today. It was different from the one I heard you practice a few weeks back.”

Kun swallowed, unable to look Johnny’s searching gaze in the eye. “I changed it since.”

“It was amazing,” Johnny breathed. “Like gosh, Kun, it really grasped me by the heartstrings and took me for a ride. I felt that!”

Kun bit his lip. “Thanks. I was struggling with trying to find feeling in my piece.”

“I remember that.”

“But I worked it out! I think it turned out okay.”

“It turned out fantastic, Kun.”

Kun decided to meet Johnny’s eyes this time. “Thank you.”

Johnny’s mouth opened and closed and he looked like he wanted to say something. He dug around in his sweater and Kun realised there was something flat inside his sweater, tucked under his arm. On closer inspection, he also noticed a highlighter sticking out of his trouser pocket. “So. Unrequited love, huh?”

Kun hoped Johnny couldn’t hear his heart thudding in his chest. He definitely hoped his face was as neutral as he wanted it to be. “Yeah.”

Johnny hesitated before striding over, around the table and stopping an unbearable metre away from where Kun was standing. “I was out because I wanted to show you something from one of my favourite Austen novels.” He dug into his sweater again and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “And I could probably recite it out loud, by heart, but I feel like I’ll just go mute when I need to, so I went to go print it out.” 

Kun frowned, taking the paper from Johnny’s outstretched hand. “You left after the concert to… go to the library?”

“That was the idea, but like most of them had some kind of issue so it took me ages to finally find one, and –” Johnny shook his head and nodded towards the paper that Kun unfolded. “Anyway. That passage is called the Wentworth letter. It’s from Persuasion.”

It really was a typed up letter, but not addressed to him. It was written in plain Times New Roman, double spaced – Johnny probably had his text editor set to that format. Kun scanned through the whole thing and couldn’t figure out why his heart leapt into his throat. “What’s it about?” 

“Captain Wentworth, who wrote that letter, and Anne, the main character, had a falling out.” Johnny licked his lips. “But then – well, I’m simplifying, but she says something that makes it seems like she’s still in love with him. And he writes that in a rush before leaving her.”

Kun willed his hands to stop quivering. His eyes were drawn to the few sentences that Johnny had highlighted towards the middle of the letter.

“’For you alone, I think and plan’,” Kun read aloud, “’Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes?’ Why did you highlight that?” Kun asked, looking up at Johnny. His eyes were dark and pleading and suddenly, Kun thought he already knew the answer.

“Why do you think?” he asked quietly.

Kun licked his lips. “I thought you had no time for romance. You said you preferred casual sex.”

Johnny let out a breath that it seemed he was holding for a long time. “Is that why you avoided me?”

“Yeah.” Kun cleared his throat. “I was trying to move on. And it wasn’t that I didn’t notice what you were trying to do, I just didn’t understand it. Partly because I thought there was no way you’d even want to be around me that badly.”

“Shit, Kun, I thought you really wanted nothing to do with me.”

“No! Absolutely not. I –” Kun liked him. But his tongue stilled against his will.

“I thought I didn’t have time for romance. I liked you before we – well – you know, that night, and when you stopped talking to me, it was unbearable. I realised I cared enough about you to put the time and effort into you that I can’t really afford to. If I didn’t,” Johnny had spoken so far without stopping for a breath and his need for air caught up to him. He looked around the room. “I’m trying to find a better way of saying ‘it would suck’ but the words aren’t coming to me. My brain’s still fried from my draft, I’m just bad at speaking now –”

“I feel the same way,” Kun said firmly. He steeled his nerves as much as he could and looked at Johnny’s face directly, hoping his resolve wouldn’t break when Johnny finally met his eye.

It didn’t. Johnny stumbled – properly _stumbled_. He looked like a deer caught in headlights for a whole second before a million expressions flit across his face and his face grew slowly pink. The confidence slowly bubbled in Kun’s chest – there was something about watching the Bachelor of Arts in English Literature at a loss for words that gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.

“Thank god,” Johnny finally breathed, reaching for Kun’s cheek. “No, seriously, thank fucking god.”

Kun leaned into his touch and tilted his head up. “Is that from Austen too?”

“No. Brain fried. Shut up.”

Kun had no other choice but to shut up when Johnny’s lips finally covered his.

……………

It was heads down, coffees out when Johnny burst through the café doors, cutting through the long line of customers and leaning over a small unoccupied counter space that happened to be right next to where Kun was steaming milk. “I have news.”

Kun rolled his eyes. He’d already told Johnny a million times not to come in to talk to him during a rush period, and Johnny knew exactly when the rush periods were, too. Johnny had also gone against Kun’s direct orders and tried to talk to him, just like he was now, when Kun really needed to be concentrating on his job. One time, Kun had ignored him for a whole twenty minutes.

“Jinsol?” he called out, “Large latte, three sugars?”

A young blonde waiting on the far end reached for her drink, nodded her thanks and rushed out the door. She was probably late for her 11am.

Kun called out three more orders before getting back to his next jug of milk. “Yes, Johnny?”

“Okay, so apparently my mid-candidature is fantastic and I’m basically a shoo-in for a doctorate now. Not officially, obviously, but Junmyeon said he’d be surprised if I didn’t get in." 

Kun beamed. Johnny had been stressing over his mid-candidature milestone all month, mainly because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with a mere Masters in English. (“What do I do with an MPhil in English,” was exactly what he sang, to the tune of the song about a B.A. from Avenue Q. While it was nice to find out that they both shared the same love of musicals, Kun didn’t need serious questions to be answered with musical references.) He’d been downing that cursed Red Bull-long black concoction long after his milestone had passed and Kun had noticed an actual increase in his usual heart rate. Maybe now he’d finally give up on it. “Congratulations, babe. I knew you could do it.”

“You didn’t, but thank you for saying that anyway.”

“Congratulations, Johnny!” Ten called from the coffee grinder. “I guess we’ll be seeing you here for ages, now.” 

“I mean, yeah. I was already planning on staying in town until Kun was done studying, but –”

“Wait, you were?” Kun frowned, wanting to say more, but his eyes flicked over the order screen and he gasped suddenly. “Fuck! That cappuccino is soy!”

“I mean, everyone’s already waiting five minutes longer than they need to,” Ten said, eyeing the order screen. “Another minute won’t hurt them.”

“They need to learn how to wait,” Johnny agreed. Kun had trained him well.

“Why can’t everyone just order the same kind of milk?” Kun muttered, reaching for the special soy milk-only metal jug used only for steaming soy milk, “Then I just need the one big jug and everyone gets their drinks quickly.” 

“Lactose intolerance, babe.”

“What are they gonna do?” Kun hissed, “Shit for a few hours! All so they can avoid a mild inconvenience – double shot espresso for Joohyun?”

“Thank god for the people who only drink pure bean juice,” Ten sighed, clicking Joohyun’s order away once she picked her cup up. “Also, I love how a year into your job you sound exactly like Doyoung.”

“I swear I used to love people before I started working here.” 

“Hospitality.”

“Mm.”

“I’m glad my part-time job is in publication and the only thing I really hate about people is their ability to write,” Johnny added unhelpfully.

“Who the fuck orders milkshakes in the morning?” Ten moaned, and Kun sneaked a glance at the order screen to find a cookies and cream shake to go.

“I’m on it,” Kun said. “Do you mind filling this cup with four shots of espresso for me?”

Ten blinked at him. “Is that for Johnny?”

“Yeah,” both Kun and Johnny answered.

“Is he getting this for free?”

“I’m technically making it for myself, and if I happen to pass it to him and he happens to not let me drink the rest…”

“You’re giving half of your on-shift drinks allowance to your boyfriend? Whipped.”

“It’s healthier for Kun,” Johnny said, peeking his head over the counter. Kun had to rush over and shoo him back to his side – Heechul would have his head if Johnny kept doing that. “He drinks one less coffee now.”

“You know he still adds shots into his drink, right?”

“Yeah, at least it’s one of those instead of two."

“He has a point,” Kun called from near the blender.

“Both of you are going to die of heart attack,” Ten said.

Kun walked backwards towards Ten and Johnny, a blender jug and ice cream scoop in hand. “’Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”

“I love you,” Johnny blurted out.

Kun froze mid-step. Neither of them had said that to each other before – if they did, it was usually used as a joke. Johnny seemed just as shocked as he did, and quickly pushed away from the counter. 

“Oh, shit. I-I have to go right now, immediately,” he huffed, saluting them goodbye before practically sprinting away.

Kun felt even Yukhei’s eyes on him from the till. He willed himself to get back to his work. He didn’t have to think too much when he was concentrating on scooping ice cream and pouring milk.

He felt someone’s breath on his shoulder – smell of chocolate was undoubtedly Ten.

“Whipped.”

“Could I get an espresso but, like, eight shots and on ice?” a very clear, very young voice rang out from the till area. Kun slowly turned his head to find, to his horror, a young boy wearing a university-brand lanyard and carrying a uni-brand tote bag. He was here on a _college tour_.

“Uh,” Yukhei stuttered, “Sorry, eight espresso shots?”

“Yes." 

“And just…on ice?”

“Yeah, like an iced americano. But with no water.”

Yukhei glanced at Kun in panic. “Um. We’ll have to give you that in this kind of cup,” he said, pointing to the larger cup used for cold drinks. “Is that okay?”

“Oh wow, that’s bigger! Yeah, that’s fine.”

Kun’s head slowly swivelled around to meet Ten’s very terrified gaze.

“You think he’s Johnny’s long lost son?”

“I’d hope Johnny would be a better father than that.”

……………

Kun dropped by Johnny’s apartment before heading to his. He used his spare key to get in and found his boyfriend splayed across the couch with his head in a copy of a Selected Works by Lord Alfred Tennyson. Kun gently shoved the book aside to place a kiss on his forehead from over the back of the sofa. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Mm.” Johnny stretched his arms over his head and grasped at the cotton of the shirt on Kun’s back. “Anything. I’m not picky.”

“Good, because I bought beetoot and I found a recipe for a borscht, and I’ve never had borscht before.”

“Isn’t that just beetroot soup?”

“You said you weren’t picky.”

Johnny didn’t answer, so Kun pried his hands away from him and headed for his kitchen. He’d bought all the ingredients he needed on the way. Borscht already seemed like it was going to be an acquired taste, but hey, at least he could say he’d tried it.

“I do love you,” Johnny called. His voice was quiet and a little shaky, and he’d shifted so that he was looking at Kun properly instead of upside down.

“I know.”

“I said it on impulse earlier. I probably shouldn’t have said it for the first time in public like that, but –”

“I love you too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Kun? If I suck you off after dinner, will your dick be red? Like from the borscht?" 

Kun nearly dropped a kitchen knife on his foot. “Johnny!”

“Oh my god, I’m googling and apparently it really does stain. Well, dishes, but if it stains a dish I don’t see why it can’t stain flesh. Man, I really want you to fuck my mouth right now.” 

“I have a knife in my hand! Can you be more careful about what you’re saying? You know it affects me.”

“Can you cook later? I’ve been horny since you quoted Tennyson.”

“…Fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/singledadjohnny)   
>  [curiouscat](curiouscat.me/singledadjohnny)


End file.
